The sea was calm. On the horizon, four American Naval Vessels, one of which being the USS Brooklyn, were cutting thru the crystal blue ocean water. The wind began to pick up, and clouds appeared from nowhere. Rainwater had begun to gently sprinkle upon the decks of the convoy. The calm, crystal blue ocean water turned a dark blackish color. An American hero, was returning home...

"Valois? Valois."
A soft voice rang in his ears...
"Valois!"
The soft voice had become a loud yell. Startled, the Commander leapt to his feet. His vision was distorted, the room seemed to sway back and forth. After a few seconds, he realized what had occured. He had fallen asleep in his chair during the short slip-space travel, and now had to face the embarrassment of the action. The voice had woken him was that of a woman over the COMM systems. At first he did not recognize the woman, but when she spoke, his memory caught up with him.

"Valois, still embarrassing yourself in front of other people? Some things never change do they?" asked the woman over the COMM systems.

Struggling to keep his eyes open, the Commander sat back down, then asked in a scratchy tone of voice:
"What? I thought you were dead."

The woman began laughing.
"Dead? Who told you that?"

The Commander cleared his throat, then replied in all seriousness:
"Staff Sergeant Avery Johnson..."

The woman stopped laughing. An uncomfortable silence came across the two of them. In an effort to change the subject, the woman asked the Richardfor ID numbers and confirmation codes.

"Bonhomme Richard, this is Commander Miranda Keyes of the Sol defence group 2B/7. Please send ID numbers and confirmation codes for verification."

Valois then patched a series of numbers and letters into a computer screen on his chair.
"Doing so...Done. ID numbers and confirmation codes sent."

The Richard was forced to go on standby while awaiting verification from the home fleet, for if his ship got any closer, the cluster of Orbital Defence Platforms would determine the Richard as an unidentified vessel, therefor opening fire when in range. About a minute passed when a voice over the COMM system broke the silence by stating:

"Verification complete, prepare for docking with the Moscow. Welcome home."

The Moscow was an Orbital Defence Platform commissioned on May 14, 2547. She proved her worth during the Human-Covenant war, more specifically, the Second battle of Earth, when she accumulated thirteen Covenant loyalist ship kills. Now however, she was far from her former glory. The station was in moderate disrepair, and was to be decommissioned the following week. The Richard was to be one of the last vessels to have the honor of docking with her. What amazed him was not the station, but the planet it was orbiting. Earth. He hasn't seen her in years. The sight of the blue mass in the distance sent a farm, fuzzy feeling thru his body. I'm home.

Docking sequence was one of the most annoying tasks in the galaxy. Text-book precision maneuvers were the only things acceptable to the UNSC while docking. Screw-up, and you'll be Commanding officer aboard the UNSC Latrine for the rest of your life. 40% of preventable hull/armor damages that occure in space are caused by improper docking procedure and failure to slow speed on approach. Caution was a major factor in preventing these blunders...

"Moscow to Richard, you are cleared for docking in bay two. Slow speed to ten-thousand knots."

"Understood. Richard slowing speed to ten-thousand knots."

The Commander waved his hand at one of the men on the bridge who, clearly understanding the order, pulled a small lever at his station. With the lever being pulled, the frigate began to lose speed at an extraordinary rate. Orders were orders... Ten-minutes later, with a loud boom, the frigate and Orbital Station were securly locked together.

Music began to play on the radio as they docked.
The Commander realized that the music playing was of old Earth "rap" music, something his mother sang to him as a child. The music put a smile on almost every face aboard the frigate.

"Watch me supersoak dat ohhh!"
The music began to fade away.

"Welcome home, welcome home. Givin' a shout out to the UNSC Bonhomme Richard, whos crew has been in space for over four years. Four years people! Can you believe that? Well stay tuned, we have more old-skool music for Humanity and... any others that may be listening.
96.721-Serving the troops and sailors for over thirty years."

It was a USO radio-station transmitting from the Moscow. The crew of the Richard knew they were home. From the Commander's point of view, they all looked eager to get to the surface and see their family and friends.
The Commander however, had other priorities. Whilst the crew thought of this as a recreational visit, the sole purpose of their return was to be directly briefed by FleetCommand. He figured they were not worried due to the fact that the crew were not authorized to be briefed, which they used as an excuse...